Chapter 17 Maeve #2
The service doors swing open once more, and, to my surprise, it’s Marianne and Bharlo who enter—not staff members. There’s an uncomfortable air around the couple as they approach the table, and dread pools in my gut.
They’re not impressed. I wonder if it’s because Adrian’s not yet here, so they’re not the fashionably late ones.
Like Hadrian’s parents, the eldest mated pair are dressed in gold. It’s clear we were the only ones to not get the dress code.
What a petty message to send.
“Oh, good, you’re all here,” Marianne says pleasantly. “We went looking for you, Leanne, darling, and couldn’t find you.”
Bharlo stays silent as he pulls his mate’s chair out for her.
“I do apologise, Mari. We didn’t want to be late, so came straight here,” Leanne says, flicking her chin towards Julian in the least subtle way possible.
Did she think we were going to sacrifice him for admission into our secret cult or something? Because, fuck me.
None of us actually want to steal Julian from her. I think she’s missing the fact that her son is eagerly walking from her path.
“You’re here, too, Maeve, darling,” Marianne continues. “We were taking bets on whether you’d skip.”
Her tone implies she thought I’d be too weak to attend.
Bitch.
“I wouldn’t miss this circus even if I were dead,” I say sweetly. “Not when the admission fee is so cheap.”
Her eye twitches, and she smoothes out her napkin as a way to distract herself. Small victories, I suppose.
“Where is our Adrian?” Marianne asks again.
“I had just wondered that myself,” Leanne adds.
Both women turn their full attention on me, and I bite back a sneer. I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing my distaste for them.
Marianne leans forward, her smile too polished to be anything but vicious. “Maeve, darling, please go fetch your guardian. He’s in his office with Helen, and we can’t have the patriarch running late for our family dinner.”
My spine snaps rigidly, and Hades shifts in his seat. Lucifer’s gaze narrows, and I feel the tension thrumming through the imp, each wave of annoyance stronger than the last.
I push back my chair, unease clawing up my throat at the thought of leaving the table—even for a moment—but I have no idea why.
It’s not like anything can happen to me here.
Luc and Hades immediately make a move to come with me.
Marianne waves a dismissive hand. “Honestly, boys. She’s not being summoned for torture. She’s going to be gone all of two minutes.” Her smile sharpens. “Off you go, Maeve. You’re safe here.”
My heartbeat stutters, but I nod my head and leave the room. I don’t look back. I don’t rush, no matter how badly every instinct screams at me to do exactly that.
My chromius is snarling mentally, which only adds to my panic.
This feels like some sort of trap. Her lies of being safe here aren’t reassuring. In fact, they make it worse.
I fucking hate her.
No—I hate them all.
Clearly, though, something is underway, and whatever it is, I’m not meant to understand it, yet.
The corridor feels colder than it should be. Devoid of scents and people, it’s like I’m walking through a ghost town. The air too quiet, too clean.
It’s strange and extremely unsettling for both me and my chromius.
We’ve been here plenty of times, walking this corridor far more than I’d care to, and this emptiness isn’t the norm.
It feels like the walls themselves know something I don’t and are politely trying to warn me before I get myself killed.
Which is weird—Graves’s walls would never try to help me.
My chromius retreats into the corner of my mind, the little coward crying out for the men she thinks guarantee her safety.
We shouldn’t be alone. We shouldn’t be out here.
I try to ignore her, but even my heels sound different on the polished stone floor. They’re too sharp.
Too loud. Too exposed.
I might as well be daring anyone who wants to hurt me to come and find me. Some leave breadcrumbs. Others leave the stench of fear.
Unfortunately, I’m the latter.
Adrian’s office is at the end of the corridor, just before the spiral staircase that leads up to his private wing. I expect silence—he always has his door closed to avoid eavesdropping.
Unfortunately.
Instead, I hear voices—familiar ones.
I come to a rapid stop, my pulse spiking. I don’t want to disturb them, especially if it means I get information I wouldn’t have otherwise.
“…not sustainable, Helen. She cannot stay here.”
Adrian’s voice is low and dangerous. The desperation in his voice is terrifying, though. Far worse than the anger I’m used to.
Which sister is he concerned about? Or is it about someone else entirely?
“You think I don’t know that?” Helen replies softly. “I’ve told you for years this place is too dangerous for her. But moving her any sooner than we have already discussed with them—especially when they’re due back—it’s not going to look good, my love. We’ll only put her in more danger.”
A chill runs up the length of my spine, and my chromius hisses in my mind. She’s practically shaking.
Or maybe that’s me.
Lucifer would accuse me of being self-absorbed—he’s not wrong, I am mildly concerned with myself—but it would take an idiot to not realise the subject of their discussion.
Adrian and Helen are talking about me.
So, what the fuck is going on? And who the hell are they? Who is coming soon? We’ve only just got rid of some of the fuckers.
My throat tightens, and my chest feels heavy, compressed under the weight of my terror. I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I can’t risk drawing their attention.
Not when I’m getting such good information.
Adrian snarls, and I flinch at the sharp twitter that answers him from Helen. I never found her shifter form something to be afraid of, but maybe that was a mistake.
Right now, she’s impressively terrifying.
“I’m angry that we can’t protect her,” Adrian growls. “She’s ours. We found her. We claimed her.”
My stomach churns at the possessiveness in his words.
He’s a vile bastard.
Sick.
Twisted.
Psychotic.
He doesn’t want to protect me because he cares for me. No, he just wants to make sure his property isn’t damaged. He claimed me, so how dare someone touch his toys.
“The moment my parents arrive, they’re going to be gunning for her,” he continues, and my jaw drops. “Maeve barely survived them last time, and I don’t know how we’re supposed to protect her. I’m scared for her, little hellion.”
My heart stops. My body turns to ice. Cold, hollow, burning ice flooding through my veins.
Last time?
My mind scrambles backward, grasping for memories of Rowena and Gareth Graves. I flick through the mental memories, trying to uncover anything that could be considered life-ending.
I had a heat. Two years ago. Maybe two and a half. It was rough—brutal, even—but no worse than any other.
So, what did they do to me? And why the fuck don’t I remember?
“With the girls still here, things are already hard,” Adrian continues. “The boys might not be very trusting after my little fuck-up with Julian, but—”
Helen cuts him off quickly, her voice lowering. “My love, the walls have ears. Keep your voice down. If anyone hears you—”
He squeals angrily, the sound echoing through the hall, and I know that if anyone were to be here, they’d have heard it.
But now the fact that this hallway is completely clear makes sense. He’s protecting his wing from me, the guys, from his sisters.
He’s plotting against his family—of course, he’s keeping that little rebellion secret.
“I want her gone before they step foot on the compound.” Adrian’s voice fractures, a crack in his demeanour that I wish I could see. I’ve never heard this from him—never witnessed his fear.
“As do I,” Helen replies quietly. “I won’t allow them to harm her, Ades.”
Her heels click softly against the floor.
Pain surges through me. Do I advance? Retreat? Stay frozen like a gormless idiot and hope for the best?
“Helen… I can’t watch her die,” Adrian says hoarsely. “We can’t lose another daughter—not again. Not because of them.”
My heart slams violently against my ribs. Acid burns up my throat as bile threatens to rise.
My chromius presses close, letting out a soft, terrified wail that rattles through me.
What the fuck are they talking about?
Another daughter?
Did they—did they have a child?
Did they kidnap another girl like me?
What the fuck are they talking about?
Nothing makes sense.
“We’ll send Julian with them,” Helen says after a moment. “I don’t know how safe he’ll be—not with his current attitude. But being with her will make things easier for us in the long run.”
Adrian exhales heavily. Their voices draw closer.
Shit.
They’re coming my way.
“My sisters are not going to be pleased with that,” he grumbles, and Helen’s twinkling laugh annoys me. It grates against my raw nerves, pissing off my chromius, too.
How can they go from such deep-seated panic to now laughing? Mocking, even?
They’ve been in this office planning something about me—something massive, yet again—while I had been sitting out there like an oblivious idiot arguing about chocolate and seating charts with the boys.
They’ve made me into a fool.
Again.
Adrian’s voice softens, barely audible. “She won’t understand. And she’s already endured enough. We’ll protect her.”
“As much as she allows,” Helen replies, bitterness threading through her tone. “I can’t wait for the day she stops fighting us. When she has no choice but to trust us.”
The office door scrapes open, the sound echoing down the corridor.
I step forward, schooling my expression carefully, praying my unease isn’t written across my face.
“Better she be angry with you than dead, Adrian,” Helen murmurs.
She’s replying to something I missed. Fuck.
“I hope there’s curry,” Adrian says suddenly. “I need something warm.”
I frown as he rounds the corner with Helen. They exchange a look so fast I can’t decipher it.
“Good evening, love,” he says smoothly, smiling at me with a fake mask in place. “How was your session with Sonia?”